


columbo thinks of something at the end, let it be our salvation

by sternenrotz



Series: broken hearts hurt but they make us strong (queer horror verse) [18]
Category: The Horrors (Band)
Genre: Age Play, Banter, Crying, Future Fic, Morning Sickness, Nonbinary Character, Other, Pregnancy, Stuffed Toys, Vaginal Fingering, kink as coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5812207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternenrotz/pseuds/sternenrotz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh is two months pregnant and Tom is really overwhelmed by it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	columbo thinks of something at the end, let it be our salvation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timedowls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timedowls/gifts).



> titled after "Columbo" by Wanda.
> 
> set in summer 2017. as always, Josh's gender is too complicated for words but eir default pronouns are spivak (ey/em/eirs) and ey spent a long time being on HRT, Tom is everyone's token cisgender friend, featuring mentions of trans girl Rhys, whose chosen name is Dilys, trans boy Joe and agender Faris. also as always, Tom's POV comes with a certain amount of cis fuckery.
> 
> also, Bear looks like this: [x](http://www.amazon.co.uk/Steiff-80cm-Fynn-Teddy-Beige/dp/B004FN64GW)

A strange noise first wakes Tom up. First thing he notices, he rolled over in his sleep, so Josh's no longer in his arms, and so the sun streaming through the blinds isn't shining on his face as it otherwise would. The bed is toasty warm with that and the heat of two bodies, and Tom's so drowsy still when he opens his eyes that he writes the sound off as part of the dream he just had. Or maybe the cat’s being an asshole again.

Except then the sound comes again, and it's very clearly coming from _Josh_.  It's not so much a sob as it's a poor imitation of the sound a sob makes, all the choked-up-ness with none of the tears.

Tom twists his still-limp body around to find Josh supine, both hands on eir belly under the fabric of eir t-shirt. Although Tom's not entirely sure if _eir_ is the pronoun to use in this situation. H is instinctual response is to fear that this is the worst-case scenario Josh brought up only vaguely, the one that could happen if ey has a _boy day_.

“Josh?” he asks, and he tentatively moves one hand across the bedspread. He doesn't dare to touch Josh just yet, just in case it's really bad. “Cub? Little boy?”

Josh makes another sob and doesn't turn around. From what Tom can see, eir face is scrunched up as if ey's crying, too. Eir hands push down harder on eir belly.

“Josh?” Tom asks, once again, “Boy Josh? Are you having one of your bad days?”

Once again, Josh makes a noise, one that's less pathetic and more frustrated. Finally, ey says, “I don't feel bad 'cause I'm dysphoric, I feel bad because I'm fucking _nauseous_.”

Ey rolls over to turn eir back and bare arse to Tom, as if the conversation's over with that, and lets out an extended dramatic groan.

“I'm dying, Tomethy.”

Tom has to hold back a chuckle, as much as he's also pitying Josh. “That bad, huh?”

Josh's hand reaches for the bottle of water that sits on the bedside. Ey makes another noise that sounds suspiciously like a muffled _fuck off_.

“Hey,” Tom drawls out, and he gentles his hand over Josh's hip just where eir shirt ends. Josh doesn't flinch, and so, he says, “You cranky bear-person. You mind telling me how you feel today?”

“I'm bloated.”

“You know what I mean, come on.”

Josh hums and takes another sip of water. Ey says, “My gender is bloated and in pain 'cause I'm cooking a womb burger in my stomach, and also...”

And ey cuts emself off with the sound of a palm slapping over a mouth.

“Josh?”

Morning sickness. _Obviously_ .

Josh flails eir way off the bed and out of the bedroom into the bathroom down the hall, waddling with a speed Tom didn't think ey would be capable of in this state. _Waddling_ , he can't help but feel that's the one word that describes how Josh moves accurately. Ten weeks in and ey already has that pregnant person gait. He also sits up and wonders if he should follow along and make sure Josh doesn't hurt emself, except then, ey coughs, twice, but no sound of bile hitting porcelain follows it. Tom supposes that's done.

“False alarm,” Josh croaks out from down the hall.

Ey comes back into the bedroom a few minutes later, and ey pauses to grab eir pants from yesterday off the floor and steps into them. Ey climbs onto the mattress again to sit with eir back against the headboard, a pillow propping em up.

“Sorry about that.”

“You don't need to apologise,” Tom says. “It's totally normal.”

“It freaked you out,” Josh says back. Ey does that stupid smirk ey has, showing off eir tiny fangs.

Which, okay, it maybe did. Only a little.

“Still,” Tom says. “Should've seen it coming.”

“Yeah.” Josh folds eir legs and reaches for eir bottle of water again, and ey says, “It's actually a really irregular thing for me, so… I can't, really.” Ey pauses to take a long sip.

What's Tom to do other than to say, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Josh's hands go to eir tits, then back to eir belly. “Usually I'm kind of nauseous during the day, but I don't throw up or feel like I have to, so it's just _annoying_ unpleasant and not _disgusting_ unpleasant.”

“You're not _disgusting_ .”

“Yeah, I am,” Josh says. Ey rubs over the stretch marks that formed on eir thigh, and ey says, “But I didn't get any morning sickness yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. Or the day before _that_. So the day I sleep at your flat I'm dry heaving, obviously.”

Once again, Tom's not sure what to say, so he simply laughs. “Figures.”

“Mm.”

Josh slides down deeper into the pillow once again, and ey goes back to touching eir own tits.

“What're you doing?”

“They're so sensitive now, they hurt like shit. Just offering them some comfort.”

Ey slips eir hands up the bottom of eir shirt to properly fondle them, and Tom politely shuts his eyes. This whole  _touching eir own tits_ thing is hugely intimate for Josh, and it's also kind of weird in a nonsexual way, so Tom won't stare if not staring is the respectful thing to do.

For a second, it's quiet, before Josh says, “Ew.”

“What?”

“False alarm again.”

“Come on. What?”

Josh cackles, that characteristic witch cackle ey has, without actually replying.

Tom says, “Come _on_. What's so funny?”

He opens his eyes to see, and Josh's pulling eir arms out from eir t-shirt again, so he figures it's okay if he keeps them open.

“I forgot I had my nipples pierced, and I just felt something smooth and warm and thought it was, like, a drop of nipple discharge.”

“Discharge,” Tom repeats.

“I'm not gonna call it _breast milk_ yet, okay?”

Ey twists around with eir hands at the bottom of eir shirt once again, this time so ey can take it off and roll over to eir side, so ey can keep fondling one tit while looking straight at Tom's face.

“Don't give me that look, Tomethy. Let a weary mother bear squeeze his tit in peace.”

“'m sorry,” Tom says back, and he focusses on Josh's face instead.

That healthy maternal glow that's supposed to come with being pregnant, he feels that's maybe a myth, because so far Josh's just got dark circles and chapped lips, and the hairs between eir brows are starting to grow back in. Maybe that part only comes in the second trimester.

“Just looking at your face, not at your tits. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“So.” Tom can't help but chuckle again, and he _really_ wishes he could lean in and kiss Josh without getting pushed away for it. “Bear squeezing _his_ tit?”

“Yeah, I was just evening out the female-gendered _mother bear_ part.”

“Parent bear.”

“Not a good ring,” Josh says. “There's like, no good words for parents who aren't mothers or fathers.”

“Fother bear.”

“Gross,” Josh insists. Ey rubs the side of eir face against the pillow, like ey does, and says, “Zither bear.”

“What?”

“Zither. Me and Fari looked online, at words for non-binary parents, and that's one of the actual words people use.”

“That's an instrument.”

“I _know_. It's stupid, it's … why are queer people so weirdly obsessed with the letters X and Z?”

It's obviously not intended as an actual question, so Tom only laughs.

“I was saying. I'm a cranky sleepy zither bear, and I'm going to squeeze my achy milk jugs for the rest of the day, probably.”

“Milk jugs,” Tom repeats.

“My favourite gross word for tits,” Josh elaborates. “Finally got an excuse to use it for once.”

“I love your brain.”

The _your brain_ part is only an afterthought to that, but it's true all the same. The moment's weird, languid like time's been distorted by flowing honey, but not truly _tender_ , in a sense that tender isn't something Josh can be or exist with, probably.

Josh asks, “The one in my skull or the two surplus I'm growing on my chest?”

“All of them,” Tom says back. “D'you think they're getting bigger?”

“'f course they are.” Josh does a tiny pout, and from the corner of his eye, Tom sees em squeeze down tighter on one tit. “Stop looking at them like that, you're making them uncomfortable.”

“Sorry.”

“If I go back to an E cup,” Josh says, “Like I was before HRT, you have to promise that you’re paying for me to get them lopped off. I’m serious.”

“You do _not_ want to lop your tits off,” Tom says back. Because, well, he knows for fact that there’s nothing Josh wants less than precisely that, and because he feels he should say something in this conversation.

“Yeah.” Josh rubs eir face into the pillow again and says, “Just take me to get a reduction, then. Make them give me cute little A cup boobies like Di’s ones.”

“Dilys is a B cup,” Tom says, just because. Because he prefers a still-sleepy bickering bantering Josh over a whiny Josh any day. “Trust me.”

“Mm.” Josh pouts and pushes out eir already plump bottom lip to a ridiculous fish-like degree. “This is, like, a boob having thing, you’re not going to understand, but… once they get to a certain size everything smaller than that’s basically an A cup, it’s just. You know. All the little ones that don’t get in the way or hurt your back.”

Again, Tom can’t do anything but laugh. Josh makes a low, vaguely whiny noise at him in response.

“Tom,” ey says, with the _o_ sound dragged all the way out. Ey flops over onto eir back, arms and legs and tangled strands of hair spread out star-shaped around em. “I’m hungry.” That _definitely_ sound s whiny, too.

But then, it’s nothing Tom isn’t used to by now. “Okay,” he says. “What d’you want, bear?”

“Bananas.”

As if Tom would’ve expected anything else, not after Josh’s been eating a strange amount of bananas for the last month or so.

“Anything else?”

“Peanut butter. Bananas with peanut butter on.”

“Alright.”

Tom pushes himself up and to the edge of the bed. He watches as Josh seizes the pillow from his side of the bed as well, so ey can hug it to eir chest and properly bury eir face in eir own pillow. On his way out the door, he pulls on his dressing gown, and before he steps out, he turns around once more.

“Won’t be long, okay?”

Instead of an _okay_ in return, Josh only makes yet another one of eir whiny noises into the pillow. “Bring Bear back.”

“Yeah. I will.”

This is more or less how it’s been going since Josh missed eir period, since the test turned out positive, and since this whole pregnancy thing started messing with eir hormone levels. They still had a couple of gigs and festival sets to play after that, so when they were waiting backstage or in airports, or perched together on the bus, or rehearsing in the studio or simply spending time together, Josh would suddenly get mood swings and cravings and act bratty and demanding.

It’s not that Tom _minds_ , really, or that he’s not used to this. He remembers it vaguely from his mum’s pregnancies when he was still a kid, and not so vaguely from his stepmother when he was visiting while she was pregnant. He especially doesn't mind because it turns out that one of the moods Josh gets into is _incredibly_ horny, so ey invites emself around at least twice a week. E y’s not satisfied until Tom's fucked em for at least two hours, well and truly into the mattress. They stopped using condoms as soon as Josh went off the hormones in order to conceive, so that added a whole new sensation to their sex, too. Tom has never been this grateful for the existence of cock rings in his life.

Really, he’s enjoying this, long past the point where the thought of it freaked him out. Far from just because of the amazing sex it's gotten him, there’s a child growing inside of Josh, _his_ child. He  hums as he gets the peanut butter from the cabinet and the bananas off the counter, some melody that’s been stuck in his head for a while that he can’t place. Tom chops up two bananas and spread the slices with peanut butter, just the way Josh likes them, and he refills the cat’s food bowl. Finally, he pours a glass of multivitamin juice for Josh and grabs eir prenatal vitamins from where ey left them on the counter, and he places them all on a tray.

He finds Bear in the hallway closet where he normally stays, when Josh isn’t over and when ey’s not in one of those moods. Bear’s approximately three feet tall, which means Tom got a _lot_ of stares when he first brought him back for Josh on the tube , and also that Tom has to do some maneuvering to throw him over one shoulder with a hand under his plushie bum, a little like he would with a small child, while still keeping the tray safe in his other hand.

“You’re a heavy bear, are you, Bear,” Tom says to no one in particular. He laughs.

He’s sure Josh initially gave the bear a name, many years ago, Boots or Buster, something with a B. But over time Bear only became, well, _Bear_ for the two of them. Tom found him in the toy section of a posh department store while shopping for Christmas gifts for his siblings, so it had been almost completely an impulse decision to buy the bear for Josh. In all fairness, he’s a very handsome bear, stocky and huggable with fuzzy cream-coloured fur and a lighter-coloured muzzle and beady dark eyes, which… _yeah_ , that bear’s certainly seen some things. A little bit of dust is caught in his fur from being locked in the closet, but Tom’s sure Josh won’t mind.

Tom has to twist to open the door to let himself in this time. He finds Josh lying on eir belly, the light painting stripes onto eir back through the blinds. Ey tied eir hair back, too, so it’s resting on top of eir head in a messy knot. Tom can’t help but smile at the sight, the strange intimacy in it.

“Hey, Cub.”

Josh makes a noise into the pillow under eir face. “Finally.” Ey twists around and says, “Give me Bear. My tits are killing me.”

“Just a second.”

Tom climbs onto the bed and places the tray on the empty side of the mattress. He folds his legs to sit Indian style before he passes the bear over to Josh so ey can hug it to eir chest.

“Here you go.”

“Mm.” Josh twists back onto eir belly once more, this time with the stuffie adding support, and ey says, “Way better.”

Tom simply smiles at em.

“Give me the bananas.”

Josh shifts on top of the soft bear to find the most comfortable position, and Tom pushes the tray closer so ey can reach.

“I got you some juice, too. And your vitamins, if you want to take them right now.”

Once again, Josh hums, muffled by the pillow. Ey says, “Thank you.” And then, “Daddy.”

“What was that?”

Really, Tom shouldn’t be surprised that this is going to be one of _those_ days. It’s been a while, yes, but seeing Josh act silly and bratty like ey is this morning, brattier than the mood swings _normally_ get em, he should’ve really seen it coming. Also, it’s maybe just that it’s been long overdue.

Once again, Josh says, “Daddy.”

“Mm.” Tom reaches out to grab a slice of banana from the tray and asks, “May I?”

Josh makes an affirming noise into the pillow and grabs another slice for emself. The expanse of eir back has turned a surprisingly deep tan, warm under his fingers when Tom places a hand there to be able to put it somewhere. He traces the stripes made by the blinds while he chews, even if he never really liked peanut butter to begin with.

Only when he’s finished, he says, “So. D’you want me to be your Daddy for the day?”

“Uh huh.”

Like this, Tom can see Josh’s face just barely where ey has it buried in the sheets, eyes naked and sleepy without the usual smudges of liner and mascara. Ey looks much younger with no makeup on, even if Tom can also clearly see the grey streaking eir hair from this angle. Like this, it's far too easy for him to fall into his role.

“Alright, Little.” Tom thumbs along one stripe that cuts right along the curve of Josh's shoulder blade, and he asks, “Anything specific you want to do today?”

Josh only hums some more. For a second, Tom is concerned ey's too little to make words at this moment.

Except, ey says, “You should rub my back. It's killing me.”

“Yeah. I can do that.”

Josh's skin gotten much softer under his hands since ey stopped hormones, although Tom never had a preference either way. All of em's gotten softer, and only even softer than that now that ey's putting on weight with pregnancy, smooth and easy for Tom to knead even with what sticky sweat is still left there. He shifts across the mattress so he's kneeling more or less behind Josh now, and so he can massage eir back with both hands easily. His thumbs dip into the hollow of the small of eir back, the sensitive spot. The sound Josh makes in response is _definitely_ sexually charged.

“D'you like this?”

“Mhm.”

Maybe when Tom strokes up towards Josh's shoulders and back down again, his fingers stray a little more outwards, to where eir sides meld into eir breasts. Josh inhales heavily.

“My _back_ , I said.”

“Sorry, Cub.”

Tom slides his hands back down to underneath Josh's ribcage to knead the skin there. With the friction building up under his palms, he wonders if maybe he should get the massage lotion from the bedside drawer. At that moment, he notices.

His hands slide to above where the waistband of Josh's pants sits, plain grey cotton knickers, and he says, “Hey.” Tom asks, “You're humping your Bear's leg right now, are you?”

Josh makes a noise. “Yeah, sorry.” Ey unfolds eir arms from where ey'd been resting eir head on them and reaches down to adjust eir breasts.

Tom lets out a chuckle which he hopes sounds sympathetic, and he says, “Don't have to apologise.”

“I hate it. The whole being horny all the time now.” Ey says, “I thought going off T would get my sex drive _down_ .”

“We can ignore it if you want to.”

Tom thumbs over the dimples in Josh's lower back and feels the muscles there unstress and relax under his touch. Josh makes a noise of which he's not sure whether it's an involuntary expression of pleasure or an actual response to what he just said.

Then ey says, “Stick your fingers in my cunt.”

Tom hesitates, not sure if he just heard that correctly, or, for that matter, whether Josh _really_ meant it.

Ey repeats, “In my cunt. Come on.”

“You sure?”

“Please.” Josh grinds eir face into the pillow the way ey does. “Just really need something in there right now.”

“Okay.”

Tom's careful when he lets his hands slide lower to Josh's bum, and even lower so he can pull eir knickers to one side and get a proper look at eir cunt. Ey's already sloppy wet, pink between the dark furry hair there, eir cock swollen fat and pink. Tom can't help but lick his lips when he circles his thumb around it and then slips it back along the entire slit.

“Come _on_ ,” Josh whines. “I said stick your fingers in.”

Tom hums. He cups Josh's cunt, can feel the heat coming off of it, and he properly slides his thumb in to test how loose ey already is.

“All right, Love.”

“Two fingers, Daddy. Please.”

Well. That's clear enough instructions. Tom withdraws his thumb, rubs the excess slick off into the crease underneath Josh's buttock, and he inserts his first finger. Josh's _impossibly_ warm inside, so much hotter than what was radiating off eir slit, wet and open and yet snug around Tom's finger.

“This feel good?”

“Another. I said two fingers.”

“Okay, okay.”

The fit is tighter when Tom pulls back to slip his second finger into Josh along with his pointer, and he pushes in deep down to the root, until Josh lets out a gratified sound. Eir hips push back an immeasurably small amount, demanding more.

“You like that, Baby Bear?”

“Mm.” Josh pushes eir face into the pillow and wiggles eir hips some more, and ey says, “Yeah, just. Just fuck me for a little bit.” Ey gives Tom that hooded-eyed bedroom eyes look and adds, “Daddy.”

Tom moves the tray out of the way and leans in so he can lie on his belly next to Josh, so he won't have to kneel any longer. The angle's horridly straining his wrist, like it always is when he's fingering Josh from the back, and he can't properly use that _come-hither_ move to stimulate Josh's g-spot and make em come like that. H is fingernails are right where that sensitive spot is, only one careless move away from scraping eir inner walls.

Still, Josh seems to enjoy it. “This's good.”

“Okay, Baby.”

They don't speak any more after that. Tom focusses on moving his fingers inside Josh, slowly pressing the orgasm out from em, on eir face across the mattress from him. When Josh gets like this, into that _little_ headspace, ey doesn't get responsive and noisy like ey normally is during sex, so ey only bites down on eir puffy bottom lip and furrows eir brow.  Tom watches for the most subtle twitch, the smallest twinge in the corner of eir mouth that lets him know he's doing good.

“Gonna come soon?”

Tom's wrist is beginning to cramp, the skin on his fingers feeling strange with how wet Josh is. His cock is half-hard in his pants, straining against the fabric, and he wills to ignore it. For now, this is supposed to be about _Josh_.

Josh hums. “Daddy.”

“You're gonna come for Daddy?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ey will, Tom can feel it from how the rolls of eir hips have been getting more erratic, and then it happens. Josh's cunt contracts around Tom's fingers and pulls him in deeper, and ey hides eir face in the pillow, fingers twisting into the sheets.

“That's it, Bear,” Tom says, only barely a whisper, and he pushes his fingers deeper into Josh's g-spot to help em ride out the orgasm.

“Mm.” Josh muffles the noise in the pillowcase as it comes out, drawn-out and desperate.

Tom wants more of it, and he keeps on pressing into that spot as he thumbs the rim of Josh's cunt, the delicate tissue where it melds into eir skin. Ey keeps contracting, tight around Tom's fingers, and Tom just keeps on moving inside em. A louder sound comes hiccuping out of Josh's mouth, another one, and then another when eir cunt jumps and twitches tighter around Tom.

“That's it.”

It is _it_ , and then it's also over. Josh doesn't move eir face from where ey had it buried in the pillow, but ey makes a vaguely protesting noise when Tom slowly withdraws his fingers.

Tom shushes em.

“Don't. Don't pull out.”

“Sorry, Little Bear.” Tom sets his hand down on the bedspread between them and gives em a smile, even when ey's clearly unable to see. “Come. Gonna let me see your face?”

Josh makes a muffled noise of irritation, and right after, a wetter, messier noise. And again.

Tom's not sure he's ever seen Josh crying before. He knows it usually comes harder for em, because of what Josh refers to as _i_ _nternalised bullshit_ , the reason behind the dry sobs. But he's pretty sure Josh is crying right now.

“Bear?” he asks. “Come, Bear. Are you okay?”

“Fuck.” Josh is definitely crying. “Fuck, I'm so… I'm so fucking sorry.”

“Josh.”

Tom's hesitant when he reaches out and strokes over Josh's back, the skin sticky with new sweat. Ey keeps trembling with tears, but there’s no deliberate tense or freeze to let Tom know to pull back.

“No need to apologise.”

Josh only sniffs into the pillow. “It's just…”

“It's okay.”

“Can you give me my shirt?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

He leans up to grab Josh's shirt from where ey left it by the headboard, the fabric heavy with the stench of sweat. Not that Josh would care, he figures.

“Here you go.”

Josh makes a noise.

“I'm not going to look. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Tom  makes a point to cover both his eyes when he feels the mattress shift and hears the rustle of fabric.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, you can look now.”

“Hey, Bear.”

“Hey.”

Josh's sitting with eir legs folded again. Ey reaches down to hug Bear to eir chest once more, and the tears still run down eir face, two streams forming underneath eir eyes.

“Sorry I can't stop crying. It's just…”

“Yeah,” Tom says, very genuinely. “You don't have to apologise for that.”

The room feels strangely empty around the two of them on the mattress, the stripes of sunlight from outside reflecting off the white walls and white sheets and light wood flooring. Light without heat, like being stranded on a washed-out island. Josh buries eir nose in the soft fur at the top of Bear's head.

“I'm so sorry. It's all just flowing out and I can't stop it.”

From this angle, the grey in eir roots is much more obvious, the inch or so that's grown out since ey last dyed it. It doesn't make em seem any less vulnerable, though.

“Hey.”

Tom doesn’t quite want to plant his hand on Josh’s knee or eir thigh, not sure if it will make em uncomfortable, so he settles for eir shoulder instead.

“It’s okay, yeah? Just let it out.” He strokes down to Josh’s upper arm when ey doesn’t tense up, and he asks, “Is it the mood swings? ‘cause it’s normal if you have them, that’s just part of the pregnancy.” He really hopes that it comes across reassuring as it’s meant to be, rather than condescending.

Josh huffs. “It’s… I _guess_.” Ey rubs eir snotty nose against the soft toy’s head some more.  Tom can’t help but feel that Bear will definitely need to take a bath later today.

He asks, “D’you want to talk about it?”

At about the same time, Josh says, “I mean, it’s… of course it’s the hormone stuff and the mood swings, that’s why I’m crying right now, but…” A strange choked up noise comes out of em.

Tom whispers, “Hey, hey,” to soothe em and pats eir back, just gently.

“I know it’s supposed to be an _irrational_ thing, like, it’s all out of balance so you’re crying for no reason, but …”

Ey lowers the bear and brings up one hand to snort into it. Tom reaches for the box of tissues he keeps on the bedside so ey can clean up.

Josh doesn’t bother with a _thanks_ before ey continues. “ But I actually can’t stop _thinking_ about stuff, so it’s … I feel like it’s completely rational if I’m crying ‘cause I’m realising I’m going to be a bad parent if I can’t even take care of myself.”

“Josh.”

Tom really, truly doesn’t know what to say. He shimmies closer on the mattress, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of Josh. Ey’s gotten much warmer in general now with the baby growing inside em, and it’s weirdly comforting, even if Tom’s not the one who needs to be comforted right now.

“Can I?”

“Uh huh.”

“Little Bear,” Tom says, still at a loss for words other than nicknames. He drapes both arms around Josh so ey can properly lean into him.

“Don’t call me that.” Josh sniffs. “This’s exactly what I mean. I’m literally hugging a stuffed animal and calling my future child’s father _Daddy_ . How’m I supposed to raise a kid if I’m this fucked up?”

Ey blows eir nose into the tissue again. Tom can’t do much other than lean in and shush em. Like this, he can kiss eir temple, the top of eir ear, and he does, shushing all the way.

“You’re not _fucked up_ , Josh.”

“I am.” Josh sniffs one more time, but ey sounds none the less determined in what ey’s saying. “I really, really am.”

“Okay.” It’s not what Tom really _wants_ to say, but he figures that maybe, he should go down a different route if he actually wants to succeed in comforting Josh. “But you know what we said, Bear. When the baby’s here we’ll all be moved into the commune house, so you’ll be around lots of people who love you, all the time. Yeah?”

Joe and Dilys picked the house out months ago. It’s a big refurbished barn a few miles from the very outskirts of London, with a summer house and pool and acres of land attached to it, with room for the entire band and their partners, and Joe and Dilys’ sisters, too. There’s even enough extra space for them to set up a rehearsal room and recording studio. They all pooled in for the down payment, but there’s still lots of refurbishments and renovations to be done before they can actually move in. Right now, with Josh pregnant and Joe and Dilys’ surrogate at eight months, it feels like entirely too much work.

“We’ll all take turns helping you out, you know. So it’s okay if you won’t be able to take care of the baby all of the time, twenty-four hours, if you’re having a bad day.” Tom leans in to kiss eir temple once more, and he wants to comfort em more, so he just keeps talking. “We’re not going to mind, we’ll all be a big family. Yeah?”

Josh rustles in his arms, and Tom isn’t sure if ey’s nodding or just shifting. He keeps repeating things Josh already knows, things they’ve all reassured em of, and really hopes it will help.

“I know I won’t mind, and Joe and Dilys definitely aren’t going to mind. Now they’re going to be parents themselves, too, they’ll be okay doing a little extra. Just helping out their best friend. I’m sure the girls won’t mind too much, either. They all love you, they’ll be okay with it.” He kisses the top of eir ear and says, “Faris definitely won’t mind.”

“Fari,” Josh says back.

“Yeah, it's…” Tom gets a vague embarrassment creeping up his back. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“You've known her for what, fifteen years. Longer than any of the rest of us,” Josh says back. “You used to be her best mate.”

Ey's got a unique talent for giving Tom that feeling ey refers to as _cis shame_ , by making him feel like he should have known better. Which, he supposes, he does. It’s been nearly a year since Fari publicly came out, after all.

“Sorry.” He wraps his arms a bit tighter around Josh, mainly to give himself something to do, and he says, “yeah, that's… still trying to get used to it, you know. I thought she accepted both names.”

“Not anymore.” Josh shrugs. “It used to be like… a public-private thing, I think. Like when Dilys was still Spider in public?”

“Yeah.”

For a long second, Tom doesn't know what to say. It's quiet, although he can't help but notice that the tears have stopped flowing now.

“Okay, Bear?”

“What d'you mean?”

“Feel better now?”

Josh sniffs into the tissue, not so much with tears as much as ey's just getting rid of the excess snot in eir nose. Ey says, “I guess. The crying thing, that's passed. And I guess I'm a little reassured about not being a bad parent, but…”

“But what?”

“That's not the only thing I'm worried about, you know?” Josh hugs Bear closer to eir chest, ducks eir head downwards, and asks, “Can you give me my juice? I'm dehydrated.”

“Yeah. Just a second.”

Tom has to disentangle himself for a second so he can turn towards the tray and grab the glass.

“D'you want to take your vitamins now?”

“Yeah.” Josh sniffs once more and says, “Give it here.”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

Josh takes eir pill and washes it down with a long sip of juice.

“You want to tell me what else is wrong?”

Josh shrugs. “Yeah. I mean it's not just I'm worried I'm too fucked up to be a parent.” Ey sips eir juice again and says, “it's more I'm worried the kid's gonna end up fucked up too, you know?”

Tom wants to interrupt em, but without anything of value to say, he's not sure what.

“Not like what you think _fucked in the head_ , but it's…” Josh strokes over Bear's belly with eir free hand, searching for the words for a split second like ey does. “You know, it's the genes. Freak genes.”

Ey's having trouble talking, obviously. Tom can see the gears working behind eir forehead, can see eir mouth working around unsaid words. He gives em an encouraging nod, at least.

Josh only hiccups out a noise that's decidedly not a sob, but it surely sounds like it.

“ _Josh_ .”

“I'm not crying. Crying time's over.”

“Josh,” Tom repeats. He crowds in to wrap himself around Josh's back once more, even when eir shoulders tense up. “Josh, I don't think you're a freak.”

“I am.” Josh relaxes and reflexively tenses up again. Ey says, no, spits, “I am, I am, I am, I know I am. I can't let my own kid go through what happened to me.”

Ey doesn't talk about this, not normally, about the time before the band. Before London and uni, before ey first came out of the closet. The only one who really knows about it is Faris – Fari – because of that weird non-binary bond the two of them have. Even then, they haven't said anything about it to Tom, other than _it was really bad_.  Josh still has the scars to show for it.

“Hey, hey.” Tom rests his head on Josh's shoulder, so he can properly fit himself against eir body. He says, “It's not… we won't let it happen, okay? You'll be a good parent. Even if your kid’s born looking _weird_.” He stresses that word to ensure Josh knows he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, and he says, “ We'll all help you out, we’ll make sure your kid knows they’re not a freak, that they’re loved and important and perfect. Yeah?”

He’s not sure what he’s saying, really. Almost, he feels like he’s only making promises he won’t be able to live up to, talking about things he’s not ready to deal with just yet. It’s all worth it just to reassure Josh.

“And no matter what, we're gonna teach them all about self-worth and loving yourself. We'll do better. Better than the people who raised you, yes?”

Josh’s shoulders finally untense and slacken for good, but it’s not so much relaxation as it’s em collapsing in on emself.

Ey says, and ey’s not crying, but all the dreariness and teary-eyedness of it sits right in eir voice, “What if I give birth to a little girl and she ends up growing up like me? And she has breasts before she’s ten years old, and she’s…” Josh cuts emself off before ey reaches the end of that sentence. Ey’s not crying, still.

“Josh?”

“That’s not kids that do that kind of stuff. That’s _men_ , not primary school bullies. I don’t want to raise a kid and even if I do everything right it’ll still end up fucked up just like me, just because it’s got my genes and it has to live in a fucked up world.”

Ey’s still not crying.

Tom embraces em just a little bit tighter, relieved when ey doesn’t shake him off. He’s ran out of things to say.

“Hey. You know, it’s… you’ve gone through all that. You went through all that shit, and it was terrible, but now you know what it’s going to be like. Worst case scenario. You’ll make sure your kid has it better than you, right? In the future. ‘cause right now, all that matters is you’ll give birth to a healthy, normal baby, and you’ll be the best parent you can be.”

Josh makes a scornful noise through eir nose and tenses tighter once more, curling emself around Bear. “Yeah, it’s… that’s really not helpful right now ‘cause I’m just realising I’m really not ready to be a parent no matter what.”

Tom says, “Oh.” He rests his chin on Josh’s shoulder and says, “Okay.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

For a long while, it’s quiet, and Josh just sits there and lets Tom lean on em. Ey also ran out of things to say, apparently, and Tom used up all his words. Still, the silence feels too heavy. Pregnant, really, but he’s not in the mood for wordplay right now.

Finally, the silence breaks when he says, “You don’t have to have the baby. You know.” He hates saying it and how dry it makes his mouth, but he continues. “Not if you aren’t ready for it. It’s… it’s fine, you’re still in your first trimester. And we can try again, whenever you feel you’re ready for it, yeah?”

Josh only shakes in response, and ey shakes eir head. “No, no, it’s… I want to have this baby, okay?” It’s most definitely not meant to be an _actual_ question. “Even if I’m not ready for it, I made the decision already. And I really, really do want to be a parent, and try my best to be a good parent, too.” Ey pats Bear’s head and sets him down with his back against the nearest pillowcase.

Tom doesn’t say anything because he can’t think of anything, still. He only keeps holding himself against Josh’s warm body and hopes ey can feel that he… well, not that he _understands_ , but much of the gist of it is there.

“I need to get up.” Josh disentangles emself from Tom’s grip, and ey takes the warmth along with em when ey climbs off the bed.

“You okay now?”

“I guess.” Josh picks up eir bra and the shorts ey wore yesterday from the floor. “I’m going home now, I think.”

“Are you sure?” Tom asks, and that applies to both what Josh just said and whether ey’s _really_ okay.

“Yeah, I…” Josh starts to step into eir shorts and pulls them up to past eir bum, and ey says, “I really need to shower, and I didn’t bring my good conditioner, so I’d rather do it at my flat. And me and Di said we were driving to the commune house today to meet with the painters she hired for the nursery, so I’ll be okay, I guess.”

“Okay,” Tom says. “D’you know where everything is? Your bag? Your shoes?”

“Yeah.”

He grabs the prenatal vitamins where Josh left them on the mattress and asks, “Your vitamins?”

“Cheers.” Josh looks at him with the strangest expression, both leftover teary-eyed sadness and a warm look of sympathy, and ey says, “I’m okay now.”

Tom really, really wants to believe it, even when eir voice shakes as much as it does. “Okay.”


End file.
